Love at First Hate Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  MORE BOOKS BY MURIEL GARCIA

  MEET MURIEL

  LOVE AT FIRST HATE

  Copyright © 2016 by Muriel Garcia

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by Masque of the Red Pen

  Formatting by Masque of the Red Pen

  Cover by Concierge Literary Promotion

  This book is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotation in a book review.

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  YOU are awesome.

  YOU deserve to be happy.

  YOU do you.

  Do what makes you happy and stay true to yourself.

  Don’t change who you are to please others.

  January 15, 2016

  Friday

  A lot of people use the word regret and have to live with regrets. Why feel regretful when at that time in your life you felt like what you did was the right thing and the best choice you could make under the circumstances you were given. You just have to shift the word regret into something positive so you won’t have to live with regrets.

  Like now, I know I’ll feel bad about this time of my life at some point, but right now, this feels like the best thing for me…and my dick.

  Leaning against the wall, I feel warm lips wrap around my already hard and pierced dick. This guy knows exactly what I want and need—to relieve some of the pent-up tension that’s been building inside of me all week and forget the reason why it’s been building up. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m not going to reciprocate, and it’s for the best. It’s all about me and getting some relief. Selfish? Yeah, but who cares when you have a more than willing man ready to suck your cock.

  My dick in his hand, the tip in his mouth. He starts to suck harder and jerk me off with his right hand as he massages my balls with his left hand. I lean my head back against the wall and let out a long, deep moan. Meaningless sex has never been my thing, but there comes a time in a man’s life when all he needs is to empty his balls, and that’s exactly what tonight is all about.

  He licks and sucks the tip of my cock like he’s having the best lollipop he has ever had. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue over the piercing that goes through the tip.

  He slowly takes me deeper in his mouth, making me want to beg him to go faster, but I let him go without interrupting. I just want to feel tonight, not think. It’s nice to give up control once in a while.

  His head starts bobbing up and down on my cock, his spit lubricating it and making it easier for it to go deeper each time.

  From what he said in the little time we’ve spent talking, it’s his first time, yet it doesn’t seem like it at all. It’s like he’s been doing this his whole life. He’s natural, and he appears to be enjoying giving me head as much as I enjoy receiving it. If his moans are anything to go by.

  Grabbing the hair at the top of his head, I tilt his head back and look into his eyes. He licks his way up my cock, painfully, slowly, never breaking eye contact. A smirk plays at the corner of his lips with my cock still in his mouth.

  He hollows his cheeks to suck me in even harder, making my eyes roll back in my head. It takes me a second to control myself and not come on the spot. Electricity is coursing through my body with the pleasure this guy is bringing me. It feels so fucking good.

  He lets go of my cock to bring his lips to my balls. He licks and sucks on them before blowing on them. The hot and cold sensation making me lose my mind ever so slowly.

  Everything around us is a blur. The little noise I hear comes from people walking in and out of the bathroom, and even that is softened up. I don’t care if anyone knows what we’re doing, it makes it all the more exciting to be busted.

  Up until now, he was more or less in control, but I need to take it back. I’m getting too close to my orgasm to let him ruin it for me. I push him backward so his back and head are against the wall. I start to fuck his mouth, my balls hitting his chin with each thrust. He gags a few times at the unexpected invasion down his throat, but he takes it like a champ and lets me do my thing as I feel my balls tighten and that little niggling down in my spine that tells me I’m about to burst. I pull away from him and jerk off for a few seconds before I explode all over his face, my cum hitting his forehead, nose, lips and chin. I weirdly enjoy seeing it drip down his chin and onto the floor.

  My left hand rests against the wall as my right is tightly wrapped around my cock, jerking it lazily until my balls are fully empty. I’m out of breath, and I disgust myself. Why? Because this isn’t me. I’m not one to have booty calls or quickies in a club bathroom. I feel dirty.

  I pull my boxers and jeans up before looking one last time at the guy who just sucked me, who still has my cum all over his face. The guy whose name I don’t know and never will.

  “Thanks, it was great,” I say emotionlessly and walk out of the stall, leaving him sitting on the ground, looking stunned.

  I’m never like this.

  I hate men like this and this week, I became one.

  It all started on Monday.

  January 11, 2016

  Monday

  I’ve been with John for four years now, and things were good with him in the beginning. For the first year or so, we were in the honeymoon stage. We were getting to know each other, messing around, having sex, making memories, more sex, and living our lives. We were like any other new couple that’s getting into a routine and doing things together.

  I loved that time.

  I miss that time.

  Then things changed.

  Work was getting busier because we were short on staff at the local magazine I work for, meaning I had to spend more time at the office and less time with John. The amount of work I had to bring back home was too much. I was taking on more than I could do during my working hours. That might have played a part in how badly things went between us, but it couldn’t have been all my fault. Could it? Surely, if it bothered him that much he’d have spoken up.

  That’s when John started to change.

  Besides the fact that I was still very much busy at work and his complaining about how I wasn’t spending the little free time I had with him, he became really possessive and obsessive about me. Now, I
know what you’re going to say: he’s full of himself and a cocky bastard. I might be, but it’s the sad truth. He really became an obsessive and controlling asshole. Maybe I was too nice to him and let him walk all over me. The nicer you are with people, the worse they behave and treat you. Be an asshole. Assholes are happier. John seems really content with his assholeness.

  Whenever I wouldn’t reply to his messages straightaway, he would send another ten to make sure I would pay attention to him and reply to his constant messaging. Or he’d call me because he’d see me online and get frustrated that I wasn’t texting him back. He would blame it on hitting the wrong button and would try to start a conversation more so to get information about who I was with and what I was doing rather than just wanting to talk to me. At first, I thought it was cute, that he was doing it out of love and care for me, but it quickly turned into a creepy, stalkerish way, and I didn’t even notice the change.

  With work being hectic, I was too self-absorbed in my career to see what was really happening. It never occurred to me that what he was doing was actually wrong and destroying us. It was putting distance between us. I’m not sure if it was his intention, but that’s what it did, even though I didn’t see it happen straightaway. Had I noticed, I’m not sure I’d have done something or rather what I could have done.

  Just because something doesn’t sit right with you, doesn’t mean that you can actually change the way you feel. Sadly, that’s not how the heart works. Sometimes what seems to be the obvious choice to make isn’t that easy because your heart wants something else. It wants to hold onto the good that you had and forget the bad that it became. Even Jorge, one of my coworkers, warned me that John was obsessing about me and stalking me. When he first told me about it, I didn’t want to believe him. It was a ridiculous idea. I knew John, we had been together for over a year. We had passed the stage of wanting to know where the other was and what they were doing at all times, so I just brushed it off. I went on with how things were and didn’t really say anything, even though his constant stalking was getting to me. To some extent, it’s my fault. I did let things go too far.

  If I wasn’t replying to his texts, he’d make a scene. If I wasn’t answering the phone, he’d make a scene. If I was late getting back from a business meeting, you guessed it. He’d make a scene. Everything was a good reason for him to make a scene. He’d track my every move: when I was online, where and when I’d be meeting with a client for a business meeting. Anywhere I would go, anything I would do, I’d be tracked.

  The worst was when I’d get to his place after work to relax, spend some time together, and have dinner. He would question why I wasn’t answering his messages when he knew I got them or why I didn’t answer his calls. Even if he knew I was in a business meeting. He’d constantly accuse me of lying to him or cheating on him. I still haven’t figured out how me not replying to him straightaway meant that I was cheating on him, but okay.

  Most of the time, I was too tired to fight or didn’t feel like justifying myself so I would drop it and let him get worked up for nothing while I was enjoying a nice glass of wine.

  By that time, we were only seeing each other once or twice a week or over the weekend if I didn’t have any deadline for my ongoing articles. To me, the transition was natural, and I didn’t see anything change right then and there. Something was definitely off, but I didn’t want to address it. It’s like I was over the relationship already without noticing it.

  When we’d spend the weekend together, things were fine. It seemed like whenever he’d get my constant attention, he was all lovey dovey. Yet when I actually had to meet people and do other things than him, he’d be a cold, heartless asshole. The emotional tug of war was wearing on me.

  In the past couple of months, I was always taking the blame for being too quiet and not doing anything after a long day at work. John was working from home so he wanted to go out, but that’s the last thing I wanted to do. All I wanted was to crawl into bed, watch a movie, have a glass of wine and cuddle up with him or a pillow. At least the pillow wouldn’t yell at me because I’d be quiet and fall asleep on him. I didn’t want to relive every single little stressful detail about my work day.

  Jorge joked the other day that he was surprised that John never got surveillance cameras installed in hidden places at the office or at my place. That’s pretty much the only thing that was missing to his ploy to track my every move. And yes, I checked to see if anything was hidden, nothing was.

  The real reason why we hadn’t seen each other much these past couple of months is because I was pulling away from him. I’m not going to be an asshole about it, I can take the blame when I’m to blame. I was getting fed up with how things were going between us and the way he was acting toward me. I just wanted more freedom, and he wouldn’t let me have it.

  In hindsight, maybe I should have tried to talk to him and make him see that his behavior was making me pull away, but it’s too late now.

  On the rare occasion we did see each other, he’d start a fight for one reason or another. Most times, they were childish reasons and annoyed me more than anything else. We’re supposed to be grown-ups, but he was far from it. I don’t get that mentality.

  I’ve reached the point where I don’t want to fight anymore. Whether it’s with him or for us, I don’t want to nor do I care enough to fight anymore, which is quite sad when you take the time to think about it. We’ve spent four years together, building something that has turned to shit because one of the two people involved is too focused on his need of control and the other feels trapped. I don’t want to put effort into a relationship that is doomed.

  My mom always tells me that if something is bothering me, that I should speak up. That I shouldn’t let the rage build up inside of me until I reach the point where I just can’t stand the other person anymore and never want to see or talk to them again. I should have listened to her. I’ve let it build up for so long that I’ve finally had enough. It took me a while, over two years, to open my eyes and realize that this relationship was making me miserable and I wasn’t my happy-go-lucky self. Okay, and the coaxing of some of my closest friends to make me open my eyes that I was becoming a ‘miserable fucker’. Their words, not mine.

  I’ve lost three years with a man who clearly doesn’t care about me or us. He only cares about feeding his obsession to be in control of all things. I let it get the best of me and stopped myself from going out and meeting new people. Whether it be in a friendly way or romantically. People who wouldn’t want to fight all the time, maybe even someone who’d love me and trust me. Maybe the man of my life. Who knows what I’ve been missing?

  Tonight is the night.

  I’m breaking up with John or at least going to try to. It’s not going to be easy. I hate breaking up with someone. I never know how to approach it or what to say to them. I haven’t had to break up or end things with many people, but fuck it, I still hate it.

  Give me an article to write in an hour about anything, I’ll ace it. Ask me for advice about your relationship, I’ll be giving you the right advice, and you’ll end up being happy. Do I follow said advice for myself? No. Which is why I’ve been standing in front of John’s apartment door for the past twenty minutes, unsure of what to do or say.

  What a way to start the week!

  Pacing in front of his front door for a couple more minutes, I try to come up with something to say to start the conversation. I take a deep breath and bite the bullet. I slip the key into the lock and turn it. I let myself in, not sure if he’s home already. I kind of wish he would be out just so it’d leave me a few extra minutes to play out the scenario of how it’d go in my mind, but of course, it doesn’t go according to how I planned it. It never does.

  In my head, I imagined him being on the couch, on his laptop doing some work. I’d walk in and tell him that we can’t keep doing this anymore. I’d explain how his behavior is weighing on me and has ruined our relationship. That it’s making me unhappy, and we’re
over. As simple as that, but do things ever go how you imagine them in your head? Has a scene you’ve wanted to happen ever unfolded the way you wanted it to? If so, please tell me how because it’d be better than what I’m faced with.

  John is sitting on the couch as I imagined it, but the laptop isn’t on his lap. No, in the place where his laptop would be, a beautiful naked blonde girl is riding him. The sound of naked flesh slapping against each other is resonating in the too quiet apartment. I’m mesmerized by the scene unfolding in front of my very eyes.

  Now it might sound weird, but a sense of relief washes over me. Maybe it’s because I won’t have to tell him that it’s over and give him an explanation of why I want to end things with him or because this is quite comical.

  Let me explain why I’m tempted to laugh here. John, the guy who can’t even stand to look at women in sexy lingerie, is fucking one. Or maybe it’s the memory of things happening exactly the same way for Haven when she found her boyfriend was cheating on her and broke up with him. He was an asshole just like John. Then she ended up with Spencer, the man of her life.

  This could be a good omen to the good that could soon happen to me. Who knows, maybe soon I’ll end up with a neighbor being crazy loud while he fucks and then meet the man of my dreams. I’m all for that, just tell me where I need to sign. Thinking about it, I might have the loud neighbor already. If only he wasn’t such an asshole and I didn’t hate him.

  Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

  I stand there and quickly become disgusted with what I’m seeing. Not because he’s fucking a woman. I can appreciate a woman’s body, and I do like curvy women; they look beautiful, even more so when they are confident and embrace their curves. I just like the dick better.

  Anyway, I’m disgusted because it’s the guy I’ve been fucking for four years. The guy I lost four years of my life with, not three like I imagined earlier. And I’m not even going to bother mentioning any kind of feelings I had toward him at this point. They all went out the window rather quickly. Seeing him like this has erased everything from me. It’s like I’ve never felt anything for him, never had any love for him. The only things I want to know are why cheat on me and how long it’s been going on for.